Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy
by MissSpaceMonkey
Summary: Trip reluctantly encounters a mysterious alien woman and her strange powers that might be a danger to him CHAPTER 6 UP!
1. Default Chapter

Okay, I wasn't very fond of 'Cogenitor', it was just… iffy. BUT I thought of this. Hope y'all like it J

Taking place sometime between "Cogenitor" and "First Flight" I guess. And oh yeah, spoilers for 'Cogenitor'

^*^*Chapter One*^*^

"Doesn't this get rather boring to you?" Lieutenant Malcolm Reed brought up. "We do this all the time… sit around, watch the aliens eat, watch them watch us eat…"

"Lieutenant, I've never known you to be so negative…" Ensign Travis Mayweather kidded and gave him a silly grin. He dug his fork into his food as Reed looked around annoyed, sipping from his mug. Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III kept his eyes on his plate, chewing patiently without a word. He hadn't said a word since they entered through the mess hall doors. "…especially after the little encounter with that woman last month."

Reed scoffed and shook his head at the implication. He looked around the room at the Drendarins and paused at every woman he came across. They were a pleasant race but very talkative. The women seemed to stay quiet but apparently not due to an authority issue. As a matter of fact, the women strangely seemed to be served by the men while the men also did the talking. What was also interesting was nearly all the women were a head taller than all the men. That's what caught the lieutenant's eye the most.

"Look at all the men… they're so… diminutive," Reed said. Travis tried to keep from laughing as he looked at the commander's grin. Trip looked over at the table Captain Jonathan Archer and the head Drendarins were seated. The captain of their ship was named Kemparu, and only looked 150 centimeters tall. His second in command, Jivan, sat next to him, pouring a woman named Aneorm a glass of water. Her hair was a gold yellow, partly tied back away from her face, yet in different lights it would shimmer silky shades of red and bronze. She wore a dark blue formal gown, yet it looked fit for someone in a military, with the silver notches spread diagonally across her chest. The other Drendarins had them too, but in different sequences and he didn't know where she fit in. While Archer, T'Pol, Kemparu, and Jivan talked amongst each other, Doctor Phlox kept asking anxious questions to Aneorm and no one else. She didn't say much but was pleased to answer him, and frequently smiled. She was pleasing to look at to Trip, and he found himself looking at her often. He then cleared his throat and stared into his mutilated food once again.

"By the way, Lieutenant, what ever happened between you and… what was her name?" Travis provoked. Malcolm sighed with a wry smile and tried to ignore it. Trip and Travis exchanged grins at each other then Trip glanced over at where the captain was sitting. In a break in the conversation between the two captains, Archer met Trip's gaze. Archer was no longer concerned about the incident a few weeks back, for he felt he had bitterly learned his lesson. But Trip was still concerned he would do something wrong. Archer looked away from Trip in response to the Drendarin captain. Trip sighed. He wanted things to be back to normal, talking naturally and curiously with new encounters. He felt he should stay out of the way for the time being, and make minimal contact with the aliens as much as possible. As he glimpsed across their table, he unexpectedly caught Aneorm's eye. She smiled at him subtly and he politely returned the smile. She really was beautiful and he would normally talk her ear off, but instead just got up out of his seat along with the lieutenant and ensign.

Malcolm and Travis began to mingle with some Drendarins nearby while Trip glanced back at Aneorm as he exited the mess hall. Her face was straight as an arrow yet her eyes gazed into his curiously. It made him uneasy and averted his eyes from her, simply giving her a polite nod, and exited nearly unnoticed by everyone else in the room.

^*^*^*^*^

The next day, Trip worked steadily in engineering. It was rather boring to him, for all they did was orbit the Drendarin home world. 

"Rostov, give me a hand with this coupling, will ya?" he asked. Rostov lifted his head from the PADD he was examining.

"I already fixed that, Sir," the ensign replied and immediately looked down at the PADD again. Trip gaped at him, puzzled, but didn't say anything. He examined the coupling a second time. Sure enough, it was fine.

_Damn it_ he thought, standing up straight, and mumbled to himself. "Ain't there anythin' to do around here?"

"I'm sure something will come up, Sir," Rostov assured, distracted. He walked up to his commander and handed him the PADD. "I'm on break. I'll be back in an hour." Trip watched as the ensign hurried out of the room. As the doors closed, he looked around at the other scattered crewmen, and sighed. _It's gonna be a long day, he thought and rubbed his eyes._

"A very interesting contraption, Commander," he heard a voice and spun around surprised. Aneorm stood, hands behind her back, staring up into the bright lights of the warp core. She wore a dark green suit this time, in slacks, with the same silver notches, but her hair was let free.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear ya come in," Trip said apologetically and cleared his throat. 

"It's alright, Commander. I should have made myself more apparent," she said with a smile. Trip smiled back, uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. As she stepped closer, her hair turned a copper red under the warp core lights. "You're warp core is far more complex than on one of our ships."

"Yeah, well…" Trip tried to think of something clever to say as she gazed up into the swirling colors.

"Are you uncomfortable speaking to me, Commander?" she asked suddenly. He paused, staring at her eyes. He had noticed they were a dark green, darker than what he had ever seen. She blinked and looked at him for a reply.

"No," Trip finally said. "I'm just not used to new people comin' in here… unless they're given a tour by the cap'n or something." He gave her a nervous smile, feeling dense.

"Well, I don't think I've interrupted anything," she presumed. 

"Well, not really… how could ya tell?" he asked. Her smile grew and she stared back into the core.

"I could tell you weren't exactly occupied when I came in," she said. Trip shook his head. She was right.

"It's been a long mornin', Ma'am," he breathed and found himself following her across the floor towards the exit. _But not long enough. _

"There's a reason you avoid us, Commander," she stated, catching him by surprise.

"I… I haven't been avoidin' ya," he tried to deny but it didn't fool this person for a strange reason. She stood still and looked up at him with a mysterious grin, eying his hair.

"It's been a long time since I've seen a man taller than I," she said and stepped closer. "Drendarin men… well… you can see." He chuckled and began to relax.  

"Why is that, anyway?" he found himself asking.

"Why what?"

"What do the men on your planet do?" 

"Excuse me?"

"Well…" Trip paused and thought for a second. _No can't go there, he told himself. There were so many questions but he had forgotten. "…that's okay. Nevermind." His smile went away and he disappointedly stared back into the swirling lights of the warp core._

"No, its not," she said. He looked at her perplexed. "You're curious… and you have every right to be." He swallowed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just…" he began and took a frustrated breath. It wasn't really anything to talk about and he decided to leave it at that.  Before he could make up something to finish his thought, she gently grabbed his elbow with that same mysterious smile.

"Our men may seem to serve us, Commander, as well as rule our world, which might be confusing…" she began and started to walk him closer to the exit. "…but it's a long story…" She opened the exit door and Trip nervously realized he was stepping away from his post. "…and I'm sure we have time."

"Uh… I'm sorry, but I still have work to do," he said and tried to pull away, keeping his eyes on the engine. She held onto his elbow tight and made sure she had eye contact with him.

"I'm sure you can spare some time during your… busy… schedule," she said and stepped out the door. "You haven't even had lunch yet." She waited patiently for him to decide. His mouth wide open, not sure what to say, he looked at the room. There were enough crewmen around and there were little chance of an emergency any time soon. He really wasn't busy but didn't want to risk anything with the young woman. _Might as well get the hell outta here. He looked at her sheepishly where she unwaveringly stood. _

"No, I haven't had lunch yet," he revealed and sighed. He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind them. "Shall we?" He gave her his usual charming smile and held his hand out in front of them. She nodded her head but before she could sling her arm around his in the old-fashioned manner, he dropped his arms behind his back, and held his hands together. It was an awkward moment, but only a moment. Instead, she simply held her hand gently on his elbow once again.

"Now… you were wondering about the purpose of our men…?" she said and he nodded his head as they walked to the mess hall.

To Be Continued… 


	2. Chapter 2

^*^*Chapter Two*^*^

"So..." Trip began and swallowed the wad of food in his mouth. "…the men kind of serve you not because of a feminine issue, but because they sort of… _owe_ you all something?"

Aneorm chuckled and looked at her twiddling thumbs, slightly embarrassed. Trip held his fork in mid air, grinning goofily.

"It's more complicated than that," she said and looked up at him sweetly. Trip dug his fork into his food, shaking his head with a chortle.

"That's what you said in your last explanation," he kidded. "Next thing you're gonna tell me is that the _men give birth." She sighed and looked out the window. He noticed he might have made her uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh," he said apologetically. "I just find it strange… but very interesting." _

He really was interested and wasn't offended by their ways. All the people in their culture were happy the way they were and, like she said, had a mutual as well as loving understanding of each other. But he still didn't get exactly why and he didn't think, after a time of examining the situation, that knowing would do any harm. He still told himself to be curious and yet careful. She smiled back at him after a moment of thought and leaned in closer over her empty plate.

"No, the men don't give birth, and…" she said in a vague patronizing manner and reflected for a pause. "Maybe there's a way I can make you understand better," she said quietly. He stared at her in the silence, except for the quiet conversations among the others in the room.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She looked down at his beverage mug and touched it gingerly with her finger. Trip watched as it circled the rim and she stared at it admiringly.

"Like I said, the men make the decisions in our government, but must consult with us when necessary," she said, keeping her eye on the mug. "There are many other things they must consult us with first, and many reasons why." She looked up at him, and he was staring mesmerized at her delicate finger. He couldn't keep his eyes off of it but listened intently as she spoke. "Things that your race isn't capable of… I'm afraid. And if they fail to reason with us… they suffer the consequences."

She lifted her finger and folded her hands together. Her smile went away in some sort of disappointment. He shook his head and looked into her eyes, fascinated by something, not knowing what. He dropped his fork and picked up his mug, staring into the liquid.

"What do you mean that we're not capable of?" he asked, and finally taking his eyes off the liquid, looked into her eyes, which were now a brighter green, extra curious. She sighed softly and stared at her hands, rubbing them together. And she then looked over at his. His hands were strong, much stronger than any she had ever seen.

"You must remember that the men of our world are still strong, intelligent, rational people," she began. "Even if they didn't have us as their… muses… I guess you could call us, they'd still… survive." She tried to explain in the simplest terms.

"Alright," he said. "But that doesn't explain what us other races aren't capable of… like you." Aneorm didn't reply but examined his hands with her eyes. He curiously waited for a response but she then slid her hand across the table. Her soft fingers brushed against his knuckles and it was pleasant to the touch. Trip swallowed and found his hand hovering closely above the table for her to caress.

"We can bring something out of a man… that nearly no other species can," she said almost to a whisper. She gently grabbed his hand and stroked the back with her thumb, feeling its muscular curvature. "I wish I could show you what I mean…" 

"How do you know if there's a way?" he suddenly asked. Surprised, she looked up at his willing expression. _What the hell are you sayin'?_ he thought and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," she assured him and brought her hand under his. As he stared into her eyes, he felt her fingers roughly brush through his, making their hands palm-to-palm. There was a strange sensation and he gazed at her astoundingly. It was comforting, yet unnerving at the same time. He hadn't felt anything like it before but he wasn't afraid of it. She gasped slightly to her own surprise and smiled again. "I can't believe it… it works."

"What?" Trip asked nervously. He felt relieved as well, and astonished, feeling himself smiling with her. Their eyes met and they quietly laughed at each other, each coming closer and closer to seeing what was happening to them both. The sensation became more powerful but he still could not fathom what it was. His fingers strangely tingled as their palms pressed harder. Her fingers rubbed his smooth knuckles, he could see it, he could almost touch it, he could…

"Commander…" a strong voice interrupted. To their shock, the contact between them was broken. Aneorm quickly hid both her hands underneath the table as Trip held his breath, looking up at Archer.

"Yes, Cap'n?" he said tensely in innocence. Reed stood behind the captain as Kemparu and Jivan walked up from behind. Archer simply crooked an eyebrow at him. 

"Aneorm," Kemparu said. "It is almost sunset at this time below. Are you coming with us?" As Aneorm stood up next to them, Trip clumsily stood next to his captain who looked at him with that eyebrow still crooked.

"Yes, I am… and I will come along with you this time," she replied and the two short men nodded to her. They gave Trip a straight-faced look but Trip knew there was something more in their minds. He didn't bother to ask what the occasion was, feeling he had his fill with curiosities for the day.

"Sunset on the Drendarin home-world every eight… earth days… is some sort of ritual of theirs, Trip," Archer started to enlighten him as the commander exchanged glances with Aneorm. 

"A ritual not always welcomed to other species… but with you, we are willing to make an exception," Jivan said and looked up at Aneorm. "Would it be alright with you, Ameorm, if they came just this once?" She paused and noticed Trip's sudden eager expression and smiled.

"Yes, Jivan," she said and looked up at Archer. "It would be our honor." Trip glanced at Archer who glanced at him after glancing at the silent armory officer behind him. 

"It would be ours as well," Archer smiled. Aneorm's grin widened.

"We will go below and wait for your visit in twenty minutes," Kemparu nodded at Archer and then he and Jivan stepped back for Aneorm to walk ahead of them. Before she moved, she looked searchingly into Trip's eyes, wanting him to come along.

"I will see you gentlemen in a short while," she said and led the two men out, with Reed behind them. As the doors closed, Archer looked condescendingly at Trip. 

"May I ask what that was all about?" Archer asked. He still only seemed curious.

"I'm not sure," Trip replied and he was being honest. Archer sighed and stepped closer to him so they could talk quieter. 

"You're being careful, Trip?" Archer asked. Trip swallowed.

"Yes, Sir," his engineer responded. He was about to say 'you can trust me' but thought otherwise to bring the subject up so directly. 

"Well… good," Archer said. "I'm still worried about you, Trip." Trip looked at him, taken aback.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Trip," his captain admitted. "I don't want anything to happen to _you, either." He stepped away, towards the door, and looked back at his engineer and his friend. Trip watched as his captain walked out the room and disappeared beyond the corridor. Their conversations had been like that for awhile. They would be pleasant, mostly impersonal, with tension still in the midst. He sat back down with a sigh and stared into his mug. Dipping his finger into the liquid, he noticed it had gotten cold and rubbed a little between his fingers. Whatever happened between him and Aneorm was powerful, but he still couldn't understand why or what it was. He was interested in seeing the ritual they would have on the surface, but decided against it._

He stood up and headed for engineering.

^*^*^*^*^

The next morning, nothing had really changed. There was nothing major to fix and everything was on schedule, whatever the 'everything' was. He hadn't gone to the ritual the evening before, and was worried Aneorm would've been offended. Anytime the doors to the room would open or close, he looked up, hoping to see her again, if only for a short while. 

Crewmen would soon go on their lunch break or go down below to see the so-called extravagant Drendarin capital, as others would come on duty. As he fiddled with a panel on the wall, someone touched his shoulder. Caught off guard, he spun around to see Aneorm, and dropped something on the floor with a loud clang. She smiled apologetically.    

"I'm sorry I startled you," she said as she watched him clumsily grab up the tool and set it in a case. He gave her a huge grin, relieved to see her.

"No, that's okay," he said and swallowed. "I just didn't hear ya come in. How long ya been standin' there?"

"Not long. I was just watching you," she stated and stared at the panel as he blushed. "What does this do?"

"Oh, this?" he asked and examined the panel. He knew what it was and what it did, but he couldn't get it off his tongue. Swiftly, he closed it shut and turned to her. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry I didn't go last night."

"You had your reasons, Commander," she said. "I was not offended." He shifted uneasily. 

"How'd ya figure I had reasons?" he asked. Aneorm looked into his eyes in that mysterious way again.

"I sensed it," she said. He didn't say anything, to his own surprise; he somehow knew how she could've sensed it. Lowering his head, she distracted him with the touch of her hand on his elbow again. She then lowered it to his hand and, without hesitating, lifted it up. He grinned anxiously, ready for the sensation again, and she smiled back. He didn't want to avoid it. His other hand was also lifted by her other. Both sets of hands were palm-to-palm, clinging together in midair in front of them. Their eyes were locked in place on each other, and her fingers slid through his, clenching his muscular hands. "But now's not the time to be thinking of such things."

The soothing feeling made him close his eyes slowly. It was pleasing again, he felt relaxed and comfortable with her more and more. But within moments he felt a breeze. Confused, he opened his eyes which then immediately shot wide open with shock. They were on a high plateau, gaping down on the magnificent view of snow-covered mountains under the setting sun. He lost his balance, falling to his knee on the dry earth, but she held on tight and helped him back up. His hair flew up violently through the warm blowing air and howling wind between the peaks.

"What the hell's goin' on?!" he hollered, hearing his voice echo and her laughter. He was no longer in engineering, the cold, closed in grey walls were gone. His head whirled around in utter confusion but couldn't help but beam helplessly at the beauty.

"Do you like it?" she called through the echoes. 

"Are you kiddin'? It's amazing!" he exclaimed over the wind. He couldn't believe his eyes and for long moments, stared out across the breathtaking landscape. Aneorm simply watched him and his gleeful face in admiration. "I think I know this place!"

"Of course you do!" she exclaimed. "You loved this place!" Trip looked at her, perplexed.

"You know where this is?" 

"No…I didn't…" she said, and they could hear the wind settle down. "But now I do." Their hair began to settle down as well, his messy and fluffed, hers lightly blowing across her face. Their hands were still locked together, equally not wanting to be free. He looked into her eyes, mesmerized by the joy and the delicacy. She was a strong woman, he knew that, but she was as well gentle and compassionate. He didn't know how she did it, but she made something on Earth he had always loved and missed, appear right before his eyes. Something urged him in and he stepped closer and eyed the landscape once again before leaning over her. She knew what he wanted, what she wanted, and closed her eyes. He did the same, but was distracted from their hands becoming loose. The wind had completely died down and he couldn't sense Aneorm in front of him. He opened his eyes and saw her surrounded by the engine room. She had let go and so did the scenery, but the overwhelming sensation remained. 

"Sir?" he heard a voice echo, but echo nothing like in the mountains. He turned his head and saw Rostov pace up to him from around the corner. "Is everything alright?" Scattered around the upper level, crewmen gawked down at them in wonder. Trip swallowed and could almost feel his face turn red under his grin.

"I'm fine, Rostov," he said and looked at Aneorm, who was still staring at him happily. "Just fine. Go back to work." Rostov looked at Aneorm and back at his commander.

"Yes, Sir," he replied hesitantly and slowly walked away. 

"I have to go, Trip," Aneorm said. It was the first time she had called him that and it pleased him. She walked up to him and stroked his chin with her soft hand. "May we have lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course," he said and pierced his lips slightly, not sure what to expect. She reached up and kissed his cheek. It made him smile. "See ya tomorrow."

She didn't do anything but look into his eyes. The door to engineering opened by someone on the outside and she walked towards it. Lieutenant Reed walked in, carrying a PADD, and she walked out, glancing over her shoulder at the smirking commander. 

"Lieutenant," she greeted, disappearing behind the door.

"Ma'am," Reed said with a smile. He walked towards the commander and raised an eyebrow at his awestricken expression. "Are you alright, Commander?" His voice was of a suspicious tone. Trip simply grinned and sighed.

"Never been better, Mal," he stated and smacked a hand on the shorter man's back.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, this chapter should go into the rated R category for violence. Plus, its very angsty. Angsty? Hey a new word! ;-)  

Big spoilers for 'Cogenitor'

^*^*Chapter Three*^*^

Trip lied on his well-made bed. He wasn't ready to go to sleep for his mind was racing with what had happened earlier that day in engineering. One hand was cupped under his head, while the other one rested across his stomach as he stared into the ceiling. He was in his casual nightwear, listening absorbedly to Mozart. He loved the piano, so much more calming than the usual full orchestra, which was what he needed at the moment. Soon, his eyes began to relax and he slowly blinked. Whatever Aneorm did seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders. He was less nervous and more himself that entire day. The door chimed before he could fall asleep. He jerked from surprise and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Come in," he replied as he reached up and turned off the music. Aneorm walked in, dressed in sleepwear which caught his eye in an ungentlemanly manner. Before she could notice, he stood up, clearing his throat and looked at her face. It was expressionless except for the eyes which once again spoke to his. "Aneorm? I didn't know you were on the ship." Something was wrong. Without saying a word, she sat on the edge of his bed. He waited patiently for her to speak first but decided otherwise. "Can I get you somethin'?"

"No," she said and turned her head to stare out the window at her planet below. She then looked up at him and smiled. "Sit down, please." 

He complied and confusedly gazed at her strange expression.

"Is everything alright?" he asked concerned. She smiled again and looked at him nervously. 

"Yes…" she said quietly. "…for me at least."

"What do you mean?" he asked confused and found himself sitting down, moving in closer to her.

"I mean about you…" she said to his surprise. "…something's wrong. You're very troubled."

"What?" his mood seemed to darken within moments as he continued to stare into her eyes, which eventually showed pain. He knew what she was talking about. She might not have known specifically why he was troubled and he didn't want her to know. He wasn't ready for her to know, or more accurately, he didn't want to get to know it again, himself. 

"I'm worried about you, Trip," she said soothingly and shifted herself closer. Her hand then relaxed on his strong chest and slowly slid up his neck. She tugged at it gently and his lips eagerly met hers. Their eyes were closed, the kiss was passionate, and he didn't want to let go. He brought up his own hand to caress her but she pushed it away and pulled back from him, their lips becoming free. 

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Don't hide it, Trip, please," she urged. "I saw something the very moment we made contact in engineering. Something you've been trying to fight."

"No, Aneorm," he seemed to speak to her in a hushing tone. "That doesn't matter. You said you bring out somethin' in a man that no other species could and you did. You did for me." He brushed his hand gently on her neck and saw her eyes fill up with tears.

"Please don't, Trip… let me," her voice trembled. There was a long pause, and all could be heard was their heavy breathing. He didn't know what else to say. He wanted to fight it away, he wanted them to be happy again, he wanted something more, something more powerful to come between them. But, she slid her hand over and again caressed his. She flipped it over and rubbed her fingers against his large palm. And for some strange reason, he let her. "It will always be there if you avoid it." He felt something wave over him, something he knew and didn't like. There was also something else that kept him from letting go of her and he knew it: they had an understanding, a closeness that he wasn't about to let free. But the other wave was pain, and he tried to fight it.

"Why?" is all he could manage to say. 

"Please, Trip," she pleaded again and lifted his hand as her other hand grabbed his other. He wanted to let go somehow, or turn the tables to make the pain go away, but it wouldn't let him. Why did what she was doing to him have to hurt so much? Why was she so eager to make him go through such pain? He knew why but couldn't say it, couldn't clearly think it. Their hands were palm-to-palm between them in midair like before. He felt surges of anger, pain, and sorrow race through his body and mind. Their eyes were locked and he felt swallowed into her gaze. "Can you remember?"

"Yes," he choked. It was something terrible, something he tried to forget. He continued to struggle to push it away but couldn't. "Please… don't."

"Its okay, Trip, stay with me," she nearly whispered. He gaped searchingly into her eyes in hurt, pleading for her to stop. But then she changed, her eyes changed. They were no longer hers. The space around them transformed. His room was lit by a sun, a huge, glowing sun. He looked out the window and eyed the gaseous giant. 

"No…" his voice trembled and his eyes watered. He tried to look at Aneorm, but it wasn't her. He knew who it was and it scared him. I was the cogenitor. He could see it, the young, curious, naïve eyes. And he could feel it. His breathing steadied. The piano began playing a different yet familiar tune, and the cogenitor smiled.

"_Trip…_" he heard a distant voice say soothingly. His face was red and a tear streamed down his cheek, except he found himself smiling.     

"She's okay," he said and his body shook uncontrollably. He held on tighter to her soft hands, staring into her smiling face. His favorite piece began to play now. He choked and tried to hold back the tears in his red eyes. Sliding his fingers between hers, he firmly clenched his hands into fists.

"_Trip, stop_," he then heard the distant voice.

"No, she's okay," he said and smiled back into the cogenitor's enlightened expression. 

"_Let go_," it said again in distress. "_Now_." 

"No!" he groaned and squeezed his hands tighter and tighter. The cogenitor slowly changed. Her smile went away and she looked into his eyes, frightened. His smile disappeared and he gawked at her puzzled. Her eyes watered up and she looked down. He lowered his eyes at the terrifying sight. Blood soaked her abdomen around the huge gash, and spewed onto the sheets. "No!" he yelled again, mortified. 

"_Stop, Trip! Stop it!"_ the voice pleaded but he only held on tighter. The cogenitor peered into his bloodshot eyes once again as hers began to close. Both his cheeks were soaked with tears from horror and he tried to pull her forward as she began to fall back. "_Let go, Trip!"_

"Please…no," his voice shook violently and his hands trembled, trying to pull her up. The piano died and the cogenitor lied on the bed, blood everywhere. He wanted to let go of her hands to pick her up but he couldn't. "I'm sorry." His voice was suddenly a whisper. And there was an agonizing scream.

"_Commander!_" he heard another voice call out. The cogenitor lied helpless, her hands being nearly crushed by his firm grasp. "_Trip!"_

Another hand grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his grip from the cogenitor's.

"Stop! I can't let her die!" he yelled, his eyes full of fury and pain. But he was soon helpless himself. His hands were ripped from hers, the sun dimmed down. The feeling was still there. He looked up at the man who tore them apart. It was the face of his friend, Jonathon Archer, looking down at him crossly.  Infuriated, Trip looked down at the cogenitor and the blood. "You bastard!" 

The face of his captain turned from rage to fear as the commander leaped up from the bed and rammed him against the wall. 

"You son of a bitch!" his voice howled again. 

"Sir!" the man yelled out of breath. "I'm here to help!"  Trip ignored him, plunging his fists into the shorter man's stomach and face continuously. His own fists ached from the impacts, and began to bleed. There was blood all over the man's face and he took disgusting pleasure in it.

"Stop!" he heard a woman's voice. He paused, his heart leapt, and with desperate hope, turned around. He gasped for the cogenitor was gone. Aneorm had replaced her. There was no blood and the sun was gone and the music had died. Out of breath, tears began to stream down his red face at the sight of Aneorm's painful expression. He looked down at the man he had nearly beaten to a pulp: it was Malcolm. Blood trickled from the lieutenant's brow and nose as he clutched his stomach, gritting his teeth. 

"Sir…" Reed moaned and spit blood from his mouth. What had he done? His friend sat there, weak and tired and bloodied. Reed tried to move while Aneorm lied on the bed. Trip choked on his phlegm as he tried to hold back the tears from his eyes and nose. He sputtered out something indistinctively out of anguish, and collapsed onto the bed. As Reed slowly brought himself to his feet, Trip buried his head in his hand and sobbed hysterically. 

Aneorm sat up and gently wrapped her arm around his sweaty neck, pulling him in closer. His forehead touched hers and slid down her wet cheek to her shoulder. She pulled him even closer and they both sat; her calmly holding back the rest of her tears, while he wept beneath her arms. She looked up at the bloody, awestricken Reed.  

"I'm sorry," she said sobbingly, seeming to say to the both of them. She stroked her sore, red fingers through Trip's wet hair to sooth him.

Reed wiped the blood from his face with his wrist, and stared at them sadly, not sure what to do next.

**To Be Continued…**

I have a few more chapters already written but they're in desperate need of tweaking so it might just a be a few more days 'til there's more :-) 


	4. Chapter 4

^*^*Chapter 4*^*^

The bright surface was smooth and cold. His eyes glazed over, mesmerized by the blue flash of light traveling chaotically above him. He could feel the warm air surrounding him and the cold surface below. Flaring past his gaze, he began to start counting the seconds… the minutes. The cold metal still stung at his bare skin, arms, legs, neck, ever since he lied down. He had no idea how long he had been inside the giant cylinder, sliding under, his view being taken from the white ceiling high above. The last thing he had seen was the glowing, concerned, purple eyes of Doctor Phlox. And he didn't know who else he might have seen. He might have heard the captain and Malcolm, for they'd be the obvious ones to check up on him, but he wasn't sure. It was all a blur before, there were distant voices, and there was something warm. He had felt a soft pair of lips on his forehead, and he knew it was Aneorm's without seeing her. There was a tingling sensation when he felt her, and nearly every time Aneorm touched him. 

^*^

"Captain Archer, you have nothing to be afraid of. The women on our planet mean so much to us. They're everything to us. We can't blame you for being concerned for the commander but Aneorm is a gentle, loving, creature. She meant no harm, only good, in what she did," Jivan tried to reason with the captain. But Archer wasn't ready to back down.

"I'm not convinced," he said coldly. "I don't mean to insult any of you, but I believe that what Aneorm did, could become a potential threat to my engineer… and maybe to others on my ship."

^*^

His tired eyes fluttered. _Aneorm's__ face was before him, her changeable green eyes staring into him. She was the only one he thought about, not even the cogenitor had crossed his mind since the incident. His arm slowly reached up above his head and his fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the giant cylinder surrounding him. The lights were hypnotic, _her eyes were hypnotic_. He wanted to feel her again, hold her, have that sensation between them without it ever breaking. His eyes closed._

^*^

"Captain…" Jivan began in a slight patronizing tone. "Aneorm knows what she's doing. The best thing to do is stay out of it. Your commander will be fine; I am sure she is doing a wonderful thing for—"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do…" Archer growled. "You may not think what Aneorm is doing is harmful, but I can't risk the condition Trip could be in." He felt himself frustratingly pace the room. "What she's doing to him… has done something to his mind… I can see it in his eyes." And those were the same eyes that reminded him of the day before in the mess hall. "He's not himself. It's all too suspicious for me to just allow her to do these… things to him." 

^*^

_She could be seen more clear now. Her hair was let free, nothing held it up, and nothing held it back. He smiled. He sensed himself brush his hand through it. As his hand slid across the cold surface, his hand touched her cheek._

^*^

"I'm sorry you feel this way, Captain," Kemparu slightly lowered his head. "I wish there was something we could do to make you trust us more." Archer took a deep breath to calm down and gazed out the window at the bright planet below. He had always said to be open to other cultures but this was too much to grasp.

"Maybe there is a way…" Jivan suggested, enthusiastically. "Aneorm can maybe show you what happens. What almost all the women on our planet can show us… can bring out of us… this new life… this bliss."   

"But that is up to her, Jivan," Kemparu seemed to say in a hushed tone. "And we cannot speak for another man… especially an outsider… only he must ask." Archer turned to them, frustrated, confused, yet curious. Deep down inside he wanted to know what Trip was feeling, and what Aneorm could do to a man. But it would be too risky, and he wasn't ready to deal with the circumstances in such a way.

"No…" he finally said. "No thanks… I wish I could be more open but… it's too much." Both the men nodded their heads in disappointment. "Aneorm is not permitted to see Commander Tucker… until further notice. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain Archer, we understand," Kemparu said. "But Aneorm might not. We cannot keep her away from anyone or anything against her will. You must talk with her yourself."

^*^

_They were seated on the soft, yet cold, grey sheets of his quarters atop of the firm mattress. He swallowed and sensed himself lean in, feeling her soft hand slide up his bare, powerful arm. Her eyes closed and they drew each other forward, him taking a last look at her beauty, before closing his own._

^*^

"Fine," Archer said after a pause, trying to contain his anger. "I will talk with her immediately." He didn't like anything about the situation. Trip was in pain, and someone was responsible for it. He wasn't sure who to blame. At first, he tried to blame Trip again but felt guilty as he stared down at his weak, helpless body and distant expression. Aneorm would still be in sickbay and he held his hand out towards the door for Kemparu and Jivan to exit. As Kemparu led the way out, he turned around on the bridge and looked concernedly at Archer.

"Will any of this harm our relationships among our peoples in the future?" he asked. 

"No," Archer said, unsure. "I hope not. I only hope we all can learn from what has happened here."

"When do you plan on leaving?" Jivan asked. Archer exhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes. He straightened his back and looked them directly in the face.

"I've decided… two days," he answered regretfully. Right then, it seemed like the only thing he could do to try to somehow protect Trip, while also keeping good relations with the Drendarins. Within a few silent moments, Kemparu and Jivan exited the bridge. 

^*^

_Their lips met, and the lights continued to haphazardly flash through his eyelids. After a long, warm, moment, he slowly lowered her on the bed. She broke the kiss and they opened their eyes. His heart pumped as she gazed at him, the green rings becoming brighter and brighter, and the black dots between them becoming wider and wider. Her skin felt hot against his frozen body and he sighed as she rubbed her warm hand up his hard chest, reaching around his neck and bringing him in again._

^*^

"T'Pol," Archer began after a few long moments. Malcolm sat as his station, an evident shiner and gash on his eye and cheek from across the room. "I will be in sickbay if you need me." He needed answers. T'Pol nodded as he exited the bridge, hands into fists. As the doors closed in front of him, Malcolm lowered his head and swallowed in worry. 

^*^

It was incredible; _everything had slipped his mind except her. He had forgotten where he really was. His mind and body felt so alive when he was with her, or even just imagined with her. _The kiss was exquisite, and Aneorm wouldn't let go. Everything was at peace; he felt no hurt or guilt. She had taken that away from him, and he began to adore her for it. He could sense something was amiss as couldn't feel her anymore as the lights around him dissipated. _It no longer felt as transparent as the surface beneath him jolted__. The machine hummed as he laid his hand atop his warm tank top, and opened his eyes. He squinted at the brighter lights of the sickbay and looked at Doctor Phlox examining him, standing over him. His body and mind were still weak and tired, barely having the strength to move his head._

"Aneorm?" he asked in a raspy voice and tried to lift his head. "Are you there?"

"Easy, Commander," Doctor Phlox said dryly. He didn't listen to him and quickly got up and leaned on his elbows. A sudden surge of pain pierced his head and he lay back down with a grumble. Phlox shook his head, slightly chuckling as the entry doors swished open.

"I'm here, Trip," she finally answered, walking up to him. Trip sighed relieved and smiled. She placed her hand on his forehead, looking over him. He could finally see her, and all he could do was stare into her eyes.

"I would appreciate if you not… touch him, until I have done further tests, please," Phlox said, trying to be pleasant, but Trip could sense the frustration between the words. 

"Very well, Doctor," she complied. Trip didn't want their contact to be broken, but she brushed his cheek for a brief moment, and then drew her hands to her sides. 

"Are you alright?" he asked her. She smiled and sheepishly glanced at the floor.

"Does that really matter? Look at _you," she said._

"Oh, I'll be fine," he said. "The Doc's real good at exaggeratin' the condition." Aneorm just sighed insecurely as he tried to lighten the mood. He could tell she wasn't going to take this lightly and changed his expression. "Did I hurt you?" He remembered her hands.

"No," she said, lying. Her fingers were slightly red and swollen, but he couldn't see them. "You didn't hurt me." As he sat for a moment, listening to the beeps emitting from the silent Phlox's instruments, he remembered something else.

"Oh God," he gasped horridly. "Malcolm!"

"No, no," she said in a hushed toned to his terrified expression. "He's fine, Trip…"

"I patched him right up a few hours ago, Commander," Phlox interrupted. "… but for you, I'm afraid, patching something up like a few scrapes and bruises won't be the case."   

"What d'ya mean?" Trip asked. Phlox glanced skeptically at Aneorm. 

"I've found some unusual brain wave patterns, Commander. I am not sure how to stop them. There seems to be no infection… but I believe Aneorm may have a clue what to do about it," Phlox wasn't bitter, only concerned. "It would've caused some permanent damage if your little… experiment… continued." There were more questions to ask, about what drove Trip to hurt Malcolm, what caused such strange to happen to his mind and body. Before he could ask any of those questions, the entry doors slid open.

"Captain…" Phlox greeted halfheartedly.

"Doctor," Archer began quietly. "How is he?"

"The commander is… strangely not himself," the doctor tried to explain the best he could. Archer's brows furrowed as he walked over to Aneorm.

"How are you?" Archer asked plainly. She turned around and looked him in the eyes with a forced smile. 

"I'm fine, Captain," she said. "I'm sure you want to know what happened. Just please… don't blame the commander, it's not his fault." Archer glared at her skeptically. He didn't know what to believe. He knew his friend wasn't capable of hurting someone without any good reason, but somehow couldn't help but think that Trip was at fault. Archer didn't reply to her as he walked over to the man. Trip had heard every word and surprisingly, suddenly sat up. He wouldn't look Archer in the eyes and kept his head hung low.

"Trip…" Archer said. "Are you alright?" Trip lifted his head and stared into the wall. Somewhat stunned, he finally looked into his captain's eyes. He was afraid he'd be furious with him yet worried for him. And he probably was. Trip's eyes were dark, misty and confused, but he managed to speak.

"I'll be alright," he said. "I just don't know how to explain… it was my fault, I just can't…"

"Trip…" Archer said calmly as his friend tried to think of the right words. "What got into you? How…" he saw the look on Trip's face. He was full of guilt, pain, and his eyes began to water over. Archer didn't want him to be in any more pain, but he needed answers.  

"When will he be okay enough for me to talk to him?" he asked, turning to the doctor. Phlox sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Anytime soon I suppose. But I need to run a few more tests, maybe hold him overnight. He just needs time to… adjust," Phlox looked at the commander, then at Aneorm. "But I think you should talk with _her first." Archer nodded his head in agreement to the doctor and stared at Aneorm._

"Do I need to bring Kemparu and Jivan into this?" he asked. Aneorm immediately shook her head in the utmost confidence.

"No," she said. "It is none of their business and they would understand why." Archer furrowed his brow. 

"I had a feeling you'd say that… I just spoke with them. They feel the same way," his voice was frustrated and upset.

"It is not their business to judge what we do. We arbitrate the things they do wrong, and what we, ourselves, do wrong. They have no say," she was definitely assertive.

"I think I'm missing something. Who do people like Kemparu and Jivan answer to?" Archer asked more calmly. 

"The women, Captain," she blatantly stated. "The commander understands." She added and brushed her hand along his chin. Trip simply closed his eyes, deep in thought.

"_Just to the women?" Archer said, dumbfounded. "You're right. I don't understand. How does Trip?"_

"I will explain to you when I feel the time is right, Captain," she said. "I really am truly sorry for what happened. I didn't mean for it to get out of control." She gazed into Trip's eyes and he looked back. They captain stepped closer to her, furious.

"Do you have any idea what might have happened to the lieutenant? What Trip was capable of, supposedly because of you?"

"You, least of all, Captain, have no word in this," she said boldly, yet expressionless.

"This is my ship, and my crew. What happens to them is _my responsibility. And I will say when the time is right. I am not a man on _your_ planet. Now, tell me what the hell happened!" he urged. Phlox sat quieter than ever, watching this whole charade. Trip gently grabbed Aneorm's wrist and stared into her eyes. He forced an ironic smile and looked up at his captain with his bloodshot eyes. There was a shaking sensation beneath his fingers, and he knew without looking at her that she was trembling._

"You don't understand, Captain. I know how you must be concerned for your commander and your friend… but demanding answers and howling orders or pointing the blame won't solve anything," her voice wavered slightly. Trip tried to calm her without any words. The touch of his hand on her shoulder did calm her but she stood straight, holding her chin slightly up, to somehow show she didn't need anyone's help to do so. He could tell that's how she felt, he wasn't sure how, but he could. And there was something else. Trip could tell why Aneorm had gotten so furious with Archer all the sudden. He lowered his head in guilt, then looked over to his captain.

"Cap'n," he said quietly.

"Trip…" Archer replied coolly, his hands balling into fists.

"I will explain to you… the whole thing," he said. He felt he owed it to his friend to let him know. He wanted him to understand everything even though he knew he couldn't, so he just wanted him to hear him out. "Just don't make Aneorm do it when she's not ready." 

Archer sighed deeply and shook his head. He didn't know what to say or how to feel. No matter what any of them said, he was still furious. As a captain, and as a friend, he didn't want anything bad to happen to Trip or to another alien of a first contact again. 

"You will stay here all day and overnight for Phlox to examine you. But I want you in my office tomorrow morning. Oh-seven-hundred," he said stiffly. "You will explain to me the best you can about the whole thing. And I mean the _whole thing."_

Trip thought for a moment and looked into his captain's keen expression.

"Yes, Sir," he said. 

"Aneorm, you are not permitted to see Trip again…" he paused, then added: "Until I say so…" He wanted to end it right there. Aneorm could go back to the planet below, and Trip would be ordered never to see her again, but that would only make things worse. "… I will give you a moment… in the meantime, I will escort you to wherever else you'd like." He exited quickly and hesitantly, nodding to the doctor on his way, and stood waiting outside the door. Trip lowered his head. 

"You don't have to tell him everything, Trip," Aneorm said soothingly, yet defensively. Trip lifted his head and smiled.

"I know," he said. "I'll only tell him the parts that matter. This isn't you fault, Aneorm."

"No, it isn't, Trip," she said. "But it's not your fault either. And it was worth it."

Trip stared at her, not sure of what to say. She was right. Aneorm had brought something out of him that no one else ever could. He understood himself better now more than ever somehow, and was grateful for it, but it scared him. And there were still unanswered questions. Why had he seen Archer, his best friend, in there? And why did he have the urge to beat the hell out of him? It wasn't the captain's fault at all what happened to the cogenitor. He could sense that Aneorm was probably feeling the hidden anger towards his captain right then. The whole thing continued to confuse him and it literally hurt his head to try to sort it out. He eyed a chronometer in the room. 

"Alright you two," Phlox said. "I would appreciate if you'll do what the Captain says. I'm sorry if anything the captain is doing offends you or your culture… but he means well." Aneorm smiled slightly at the doctor.

"Its okay, I do understand," she said and added with a grin: "…And I'm not easily offended." Phlox chuckled. Trip sighed and Aneorm simply peered up at him.

"Now… off you go," Phlox said pleasantly.

"Will you be alright, Trip?" she asked quietly. Trip took her hands lightly in his, careful not to get too close. He felt another sensation, but it made him content. 

"Yeah, I think so. Will you?"

"Yes."

She let go of his hand and exited the room, and he watched as the captain led her away.

**To Be Continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

This should also be under the **R-rated** category

^*^*Chapter Five*^*^

It was ten minutes past oh-seven-hundred, and Archer paced his office, waiting. He decided to give Trip some time for he might have had trouble getting up that morning. Stepping out onto the bridge, he looked around, saying nothing. T'Pol looked at him, sensing his impatience. Reed hesitantly took his eyes from his consol and eyed the captain pacing around. Archer soon stood next to his chair, staring down at the Drendarin planet below. Suddenly, they heard the doors slide open behind them. Archer's head snapped back and eyed the engineer who walked reluctantly onto the bridge. Trip cleared his throat and looked at everyone in the room who had their eyes on him.

"Cap'n," he greeted Archer.

"Commander. In my office," he replied, a hint of impatience in his voice. Trip walked into the office, Archer only anxious steps behind him. "Sit down." He nearly ordered as they stood inside. Trip sat in the usual chair he liked as his captain decided to stand. He thought best to let Archer speak first and patiently waited in the awkward silence.

"Alright, Trip," Archer began, shifting his stance. "Let's get right to it. What happened, Trip?" His engineer looked at him intently, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay," he said. "First off, Aneorm has a special gift." Archer was caught slight off guard at his sudden bluntness. 

"What?" he simply asked. 

"Aneorm, as most of the women on Drendara, have a special gift. You probably won't believe me," Trip was quick to clear up what he had said and he attempted to explain in the easiest terms he could. It bothered him to try to explain such a thing that meant so much to him, something that he believed no one could possibly understand in words. "Somehow, they can bring out certain… feelings… emotions… out of a man."

"What do you mean 'bring out'?" Archer interrupted. His captain stared him in the face, frozen in his unsettling mix between confusion and curiosity. Trip leaned forward in his chair, nervously twisting his fingers together, thinking for a moment, worrying of what Aneorm might think of how much he was about to tell Archer.

"They sort of… bring out the hidden emotions of man," he said, face nearly wincing. For a moment, he received nothing but a blank stare and a doubtful nod from the other man. Scratching his head, he thought over what he had just said. There's no way Archer would get what was going on, and decided to spare him, by attempting to change the subject. "What happened to me, for instance… it got out of control because of me… so please don't blame her." Archer's eyes seemed to cross. 

"Is that it?" he asked him. Trip's mouth was open but nothing came out. He nervously nodded his head, but knew the captain wouldn't fall for it. Archer rubbed his eyes with his fingers and sat down. Trip swallowed as soon as he landed, knowing his captain wasn't about to let this go. "How do they have this gift?"

"I don't know. They just do," he said; the sooner he would explain as much as he could, or should, the better. "When you touch them, you get this feeling over you, this wave of… I don't know how to describe it," Trip felt himself chuckle out of frustration. He wanted Archer to understand, yet he didn't. It was something that had become important to him, and for some odd yet selfish reason, he wanted to have it for himself and no one else. "Aneorm didn't even describe it to me… I just knew."

"I see," Archer said, but he only saw what was on the surface. "Why did Aneorm come to you? How could she have known this… gift… would work with a different species?" 

"She didn't. She didn't even know it would work with me. But when it did… she knows more about me, understands me, and wants to become even closer," he stopped himself, believing he had embellished too much. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, awaiting more questions from his captain even though there would be even less answers. 

"But why? Why did she want to become closer to you… and bring out these emotions… even to the point where it could hurt you…?" Archer asked eagerly. "…and maybe others?"

"She didn't know it would hurt anyone," Trip said, voice wavering a bit. There was a lump in his throat but he shook it off. Archer was still unconvinced and wouldn't let go.  

"Well, she must have known it could have hurt you," Archer spoke incredulously. "Look at the state you were in. Why would she do something like that?"

"I don't know, damn it!"  Trip cracked. He didn't want to explain anymore. "I do know, but I _can't_ explain. She cares for me and has no intention in hurting me…"

"Trip…"

"And I don't intend to hurt her," Trip snapped coldly. Archer looked fixedly into his friend's eyes watered in desperation and anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Archer asked, taken aback. Trip didn't say anything and swallowed, averting his eyes from his friend's. He really had said too much. 

"Nothing," Trip said quickly under his breath and lowered his head. Archer stood back up and gazed out the window. The awkward silence was pungent… and familiar. 

"I don't think we should bring that up again, Trip," he said stiffly, straightening his back. There was another long pause. Trip didn't want to discuss it, but something told him to push it forward.

"We haven't even talked about it since," he responded regretfully.  

"Damn it, Trip," Archer turned to him, trying to keep his voice steadied. "You understand how things went. I know you do." Trip didn't say a word and looked onto the floor. Was there anything really to talk about? Trip had made a mistake, something he had felt incredibly guilty for, something he felt he had definitely learned from, and he felt he deserved everything Archer had thrown at him. But, it still bothered him. He understood why Archer said what he did, in the way that he did, as his captain. But as his friend, it was another story. _You deserved it damn it he was being your captain. _His eyes filled up and could see Archer blur behind the tears. _Stop it stop it don't do this just stop_. He couldn't speak, his voice would tremble and Archer would notice. "Trip…"

"I know, Jon…" Trip answered as solid as he could. _He could have been easier on me but he's the captain he might have wanted to be easier on me but he's the… _ "…Captain." The word spilled out, disturbingly lucid. Archer stood frozen for a moment. He had never heard something so cold. 

"Then why does it upset you? It didn't seem to before… after awhile," Archer tried to acknowledge in a professional voice. Deep inside, he wanted to come out and be his friend. Trip stood up and turned his back towards him, wiping his face. _Control yourself damn it_. Everything was crashing in at once, waves of cold, flesh burning insecurity.

"I don't know," Trip said. "I've just been really confused lately." He brought himself to turn and face his captain, looking him straight in the face, despite all his humility. "Leave Aneorm out of this… please." Archer looked straight back, hesitant to upset his friend anymore. 

"I can't," he said. "I have to know more to see if she's a threat. Or if any of the other women from her planet are a threat to the crew."

"They're not, Captain, trust me!" Trip pleaded with him. He seemed so certain, urging him to just stay out of it. Archer looked into his friend's bloodshot eyes, sighing deeply. He didn't know what to do next. He trusted Trip no matter what he had said before, but now he was just worried about him. Trip wasn't disrupting the Drendarins, they were disrupting him. In Archer's mind Aneorm had some sort of sick hold on Trip that he couldn't understand and that Trip couldn't handle. Trip had changed, his eyes had changed, and he was a different man, a man that was willing to defy his captain if pushed enough. As he looked into Trip's unrelenting eyes again, he realized there was only a limit to what he could do.  

"I told Kemparu and Jivan that we were leaving in two days," Archer stated. Trip's heart leapt beneath his chest, bringing a lump back in his throat. "And that was yesterday." Eyes stilled, brows furrowing, Trip revisited the moment he had attacked Malcolm. The lieutenant heard a scream from outside his quarters and came in to help, only, Trip saw someone else. He saw his captain, his friend, and the man who inflamed all his guilt into one, dark moment.

"Captain…" Trip said, speechless. This was what they usually did, but he never really thought that far ahead: they would say goodbye to their new friends for a long while. He would leave Aneorm, and he wouldn't see her again, wouldn't feel her again. He stared into his friend's face again, and even through his blurred vision, he could see the regret in Archer's eyes. He hoped giving Trip another small chance would ease the tension between them.

"You are not to see Aneorm… _alone_," Archer ordered, trying to let him down easy. "I can't take any more risks, Trip." He walked closer to him, almost patting him on the arm but his friend backed away. Trip blinked, averting his eyes from Archer and pressing his lips together. They began to tremble and he tucked his chin, turning away from his captain, his best friend. Archer watched in awe as Trip quickly exited the bridge without a word. It was colder than words. Words would have at least brought them together somehow. But as the doors closed, he felt further and further away from his best friend as the moments went by. He grimaced, trying to hold back his need to burst out of that room and go after Trip, tell him that he was still his friend, that he could trust him, and tell him anything. But what held him back were his needs as a captain; he had to protect Trip and the rest of the crew. 

Reed was again, guiltily looking at Trip, but with his head held up high. Trip briefly eyed T'Pol and then looked at the armory officer. He walked over to him by his station and Reed situated himself better in his chair.

"Sir…" Reed began, not sure if he was just greeting him or if he was about to apologize. He didn't know what the captain had decided to do with him, but was sure it wasn't good. Trip just stood there groggily, mouth open without words. "Are you alright, Sir?" 

"Lieutenant…" Trip said quietly, taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna try to fix the hull platin' on that Drendarin cargo ship… but I could use a hand."

"Yes, Sir," Reed replied, still staring at him, stormy blue eyes pierced with concern. 

"How 'bout… in three hours?"

"Yes, Sir… I'll be there."

Trip forced an ironic, lax smile, nodding his head. His eyes hung out staring at his feet, so tired, they looked like they could fall right out onto the floor. He patted Malcolm on the shoulder and slowly walked out the door, nodding to the Sub-Commander on the way. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

As he thoroughly examined his fork, his chin rested in his hand, spinning the noodles around the prongs, watching the now cold red sauce slime around with it. He only ate half his meal and had too much on his mind to finish it. Aneorm hadn't come to lunch earlier that day and it disillusioned him. Archer had told him he couldn't see Aneorm by himself again, but hoped they could at least speak in the mess hall. He even hoped she would show up in engineering but he was too busy fixing the Drendarin cargo ship. With people there, it would make everything less interesting as it was before. He wouldn't be close to her, wouldn't feel anything special between them like it was. Looking up at the mess hall entrance once more, he sighed. She still wasn't there and probably wouldn't come. He dropped his fork on his plate and stood up. The clang echoed painfully in his ears and he winced. He was still recuperating after their last incident even though Phlox did everything he could. Walking towards the door, he nodded to fellow crewmen and Drendarins. He needed just a quick nap badly and seemed to drag his feet as he walked down the corridors towards his quarters. 

"Trip," someone called to him and he jerked his head back, startled. Aneorm had walked up to him, nearly out of breath. She was dressed more casual now, but still elegant. He didn't pay any attention to the colors she wore besides her beautiful face.

"Aneorm," he said in relief and smiled. "I was wonderin' where you were." She didn't say anything, merely gazing into his sparkling blue eyes. But something was wrong. He could sense it as she roughly grabbed his hand. Her eyes were a bright green again, this time nearly yellow.

"Come with me," she said eagerly and squeezed his hand tighter. He frowned and looked at her, ashamed.

"I got orders not to be alone with you," he said cautiously. He really wanted to be alone with her again even if just to talk and relax. And he looked at her searchingly, thinking she had an answer. But she was hiding something.

"You have nothing to be afraid of, Trip," she assured him. Pushing the subject away, her hand clenched again and his did the same as he felt another sensation. 

"Alright," he said relaxed. The corridors were empty, no one was following him. "I still have so many questions, Aneorm."

"And they'll be answered," she said as she hurried him down the corridors. 

They came to his quarters, and without saying a word, he knew to simply open the door and enter. As they swiftly came inside, Aneorm had grabbed his other hand and stood, staring into his eyes. It pained him at the thought of never touching her again, and knew someone would try to take that away from him again. He swallowed nervously and began to sweat at the expression on her face. Her mood had changed, she was still eager, but this time it felt for a different reason. She wanted to be close to him, and he could feel she wanted more than what they already had. 

"Aneorm, what's wrong?" 

"You're leaving sooner than I thought…" she said, speaking in a hurry. "…tomorrow." He couldn't think of what to say at the sound of that wretched word. That word used to be a good thing to him. It usually meant he would see new worlds, new species, and he would be living his life doing what he absolutely loved. But at that moment, the only thing on his mind was Aneorm, and he couldn't let go. Archer would break that from him, of course, the feelings inside of him that he never felt before. Just at thought of it, staring into her glowing eyes, she sensed the anger build up inside him.

"No," Aneorm urged, pushing her body against his. "Not again. Not now."

"We're leaving too soon," he choked.

"No it isn't, not just yet," she stressed. Trip could feel his hands burn, the familiar sensations were powerful. But they were neither of anger nor simple joy. 

"Questions?" he heard himself ask. He couldn't feel himself say it, but he heard it. 

"Will be answered," she nearly whispered. She looked straight into his eyes and held her breath. "_No words_." Her lips hadn't moved and he gasped from the sight. What was happening? It was strangely different, yet familiarly latent, and it scared him.         

Suddenly, not letting go of his hands, she landed her lips onto his. She was roughly biting, yet was soft. He closed his eyes, becoming weak at the touch. His lips slid open and she hungrily tugged at them with her tongue. Her fingers slid between his and rubbed his soft knuckles. Their heads jerked against each other as it became more powerful, more passionate. But as the passion grew, it as well became more relaxed. He felt no more anger, no more guilt, and no more pain. He could feel the electricity of it all as their fingers entwined. It was something even more than joy. It was almost unbearable to him but she somehow made it that much easier for him. 

After what felt like an eternity, her fingers crawled over his muscular hands, up his powerful arms hidden under the thick uniform, and grabbed the back of his neck pulling him closer. His hands wrapped around her waist and he pressed against her tighter and tighter. Her fingers reached up and roughly brushed through his sweaty hair. He thought of nothing but their closeness, and her sensitive touch. There was something even more as her fingers massaged in strenuous swirls over his soft scalp. His eyes lolled to the back of his head and their lips departed. She apparently didn't mind as she continued clawing and clawing. What was she doing to him? Still no guilt, no pain, but something more. His spine tingled as she landed her lips back onto his, tongues aimlessly wandering each other's mouths. She had pushed him onto the edge of the bed and after a moment, he opened his eyes, caught off guard. He looked down. She had tugged at his collar, and fully unzipped the thick jacket of his uniform before he realized it.

"Wait," Trip said suddenly, mystified. He gently pushed her only inches away and their eyes locked. "Is this right?" She paused, reaching her soft hands up the blue tank-top. Dazzling blue and glowing yellow created a fire between them, overwhelming him.

"_Trust me," she told him. His stomach churned nervously as she rubbed his strong abdomen and chest. He stared for a long moment into her eyes, preoccupied with what was going on through their minds. His hair was nearly plastered to his forehead from the sweat yet she was perfectly dry. His heart raced but she was still and in control. He couldn't exactly read her mind, but he felt some kind of force she was holding him onto with. She was desperate for his touch, for what he was feeling, and he needed the same. He had felt so lonely, for such a long time, and he needed something to cling to even if it were for only a few moments. They were all lonely in some way on that ship, and he had gotten used to it and learned to accept it. But Aneorm was there, and he could sense the isolation in her as well. _

Slowly, he took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. This whole thing scared him, the intimacy, and the constant sensations flowing throughout his mind and body. She probably was never with an alien man before, but was embracing every moment their emotions were locked together. He nervously swallowed and drew her back for another kiss. Her hands reached out of his tank and quickly pulled down the too-warm jacket. Without hesitating, he pulled his arms out of the thick sleeves and wrapped them around her to remove her top. The air was cool, but she was hot against his skin. She roughly pulled his tank over his head and smiled brightly at his messed hair. He eagerly pulled it off his arms and threw it across the room, sloppily knocking something over with a clatter. He brought his arms around her waist and she pushed him down, lying atop of him. As he tried to remove her strange, sophisticated top, their skin became hotter. His chest heaved in and out with impatience. He could barely breathe but it was all worth it. She massaged her fingers all around his large, sweaty chest and strong shoulders, caressing his muscular curvatures.  

Finally removing the top, he slightly chuckled at his clumsiness and could feel her smile beneath his lips. Her tongue traveled up his cheek and caressed his ear as he kissed her shoulder. Their chests pressed against each other and soft fingers were brought back through his sweaty hair. They eventually met lips again and he almost couldn't handle it. Certainly he had been in this type of 'situation' before, but Aneorm made it continuously difficult for him to embrace… or control. This feeling that she was giving him, this ecstasy was like nothing he had felt before and he sensed she felt the same way through their touch. It made him feel closer to her because this was strange to her as well. He embraced her nonetheless whether he was ready for this alien's power or not. 

His hands clumsily yet comfortingly traveled all over her body, rubbing her soft skin. She gasped at his energy and strength. She was surprised and highly relieved, and he knew it. He could finally handle what she was doing to him and she looked desperately into his eyes. Holding on tighter, she tugged at his soft scalp and closed her eyes. Suddenly, his head swum with confusion as what felt like bolts of electricity pounded over and over. 

"Aneorm," he tried to call to her. 

"Sshh… no words," she immediately hushed. _Stay with me, Trip. He didn't understand her. He knew what she meant but once again, she was forcing something on him he might not be able to handle. His body could barely move, but was getting more and more stiff._

"It hurts," he moaned. "My head… everythin'…"

_It's alright… I'm here_ she didn't speak but he could hear her, and the soft fingers began to rub his temples. She wanted to continue but his head pounded and his skin felt as though it was on fire. It was too much, and he tried to maneuver his leg so he could sit up. He needed to rest, and to get a hold of himself again, no matter how much he needed her touch. 

_Sshh_ he heard her again and she quickly wrapped her leg around his thigh. Her soft hands wrapped around his waist and traveled up his back to claw at his shoulder blades. 

_No_ he thought and she heard him. It had to stop. Just for a moment to control himself, but she resisted.

_Its okay_ she tried to calm him s_tay with me. His chest rose up and down, out of breath, as he felt her hands move lower and lower. His head swelled again and his body ached. Her hands caressed his firm rear for a moment then reached to remove his trousers. _

_No_ he urged again. She didn't reply and unzipped them. His blazing eyes gawked at her frantically. He tried to push her away, his hands loosened around her waist and up her bare back. _No. They wouldn't move; he no longer had any power over himself, lying there helpless and motionless. His hands just laid there, his head pounded against his heartbeat. _

_Please stop_ he begged, wincing from sharp twinges behind his eyes.

_Its too dangerous_ she replied. He could still read every emotion in her mind and almost feel everything she was capable of as her species. _Stay with me it'll be over soon._ Despite what she told him, he tried to fight it. There was now only pain. The peace and the joy and the serenity was now gone. He wanted to go through this with her but also tried to stop it. _Trip look at me. _

His bloodshot eyes looked out his red, terrified face into hers, begging for her to stop. It was intolerable for she wouldn't listen to him. Her yellow eyes stared into him intently, not willing to let go. It was no longer only physical pain, but he felt betrayal. He closed his eyes, his heart raced and his chest ached. His lungs felt like they were collapsing inside of him as he gasped for air. She was saddled against him, feeling around below his waist, and then unzipped his trousers. A cold tear ran down his face as he moaned at her pressure. He was being hurt deliberately by someone who had brought him so much joy, but was now betraying his trust. They both still had strong feelings towards each other, and he knew she didn't want to harm him, but couldn't help it. He had to stop her from doing something she would highly regret, forgetting to think of himself. 

_Stop it Aneorm_. In his mind he could finally move his arms. He could see them reach down and grab her wrists, and could feel them clenching hard. 

_No Trip_ she pleaded _I don't want to hurt you. His jaw clenched, his face turned purple, and he groaned from the pressure under his arms trying to remove her. He could see his hands push her away, and felt them squeeze her wrists as tight as he could. She may have been smaller and more delicate but she weighed a ton to him. Within moments as she continued to refuse to let go of him, his eyes lolled back and he began to tremble. Beads of sweat crawled off his skin while she was still completely dry and hot. His pulse thundered in his head and his back arched. At the sight, she finally let go of the grasp on him and he yelped in anguish._

Aneorm screamed as Trip rolled off the bed and fell onto the floor, convulsing uncontrollably with his eyelids clenched shut. She quickly covered herself up and watched in agony as he reached his hands up and held his head from the pain. He yelled in terror and curled up, then squirmed with his legs outstretched, then cowered back into a fetal position over and over again. 

His skin cooled off and he began to get chills. He wouldn't look at her for he felt betrayed… yet also ashamed of himself. His face, red with tears, simply buried itself into the floor. And he could only focus on trying to rid the pain. She grabbed a blanket and crawled over to him. Wrapping it around him, she hesitantly wrapped her own arms around it, careful not to touch his skin. He trembled beneath her, and it only got worse as the moments went by. Tears filled in her eyelids and she detested herself for her carelessness. After awhile, unsuccessfully trying to relax him, she finally pressed a button on the comm.

"Lieutenant Reed, this is Aneorm," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. 

"_Yes, Aneorm?" he answered after a moment, concerned. He knew there was something wrong._

"Come to Commander Tucker's quarters immediately."

**To Be Continued… **


	6. Chapter 6

^*^*Chapter Six*^*^

Captain Archer walked hurriedly down the corridors towards sickbay, fists clenched. Lieutenant Reed had called him over, saying Trip wasn't in good shape and that Aneorm once again had something to do with it. He had then ordered Reed to keep Aneorm away from Trip. Before he entered the sickbay doors, he stood still and took a deep breath. Looking inside, he eyed a white curtain blocking one of the biobeds completely, and could see some large yet indistinct shadows behind it. Reed was close, leaning on one of the counters, head lowered in worry, patiently waiting. Archer was now calmer and walked in.

"Lieutenant," he greeted quietly. Reed hadn't heard him come in and jerked his head up, immediately standing straight.

"Sir," he replied. Archer took another look at the curtain.

"Aneorm?" he asked. Reed swallowed.

"In the mess hall with a guard… until you say otherwise, Sir," he said plainly and shifted his stance. "Sir? May I ask when you plan on bringing Kemparu and Jivan into this?" Archer looked down at the shorter man. 

"When I feel the time is right, Malcolm," he responded flatly and looked up from the worried armory officer; Phlox came out from behind the curtain with a regretful look on his face. Archer saw a glimpse of one of Trip's hands draped over the side of a biobed, but that was all. 

"Doctor?" Archer spoke. Phlox sighed.

"He is still in a great deal of pain," he began. "I took the same scans before; his synaptic activity is erratic, even worse than before. He can't even move his head without retching from the pain."

"May I speak to him?" Archer asked. Phlox glanced at the curtain hesitantly.

"Yes… but only for a short while. He needs his rest," the doctor affirmed. Archer quietly pulled back the curtain and saw Trip lying down, back flat on the biobed, and a sheet covering him up to his shoulders. His head lifted up slightly, his eyes looking at Archer. They were bloodshot, and the lids were dry and swelled.

"Cap…" his voice scratched.

"Trip…" Archer said soothingly and knelt down to face him. "Are you alright?" Ironically, Trip smiled.

"Yes… and no," he whispered. 

"Did you let Aneorm do this to you?" Archer asked as calm as he could.

"Yes… and no," Trip whispered the same and swallowed. "I wanted to feel everything what she could do… but I wasn't ready…"

"Dammit, Trip," Archer suddenly interrupted. "Look at what she did to you. I still can't comprehend what you're talking about…"

"You don't have to…" Trip said to his surprise. "We're leaving soon anyway." His tone turned into a bitter one as he turned his face away from Archer. 

"I'm sorry, Trip, we have to and you know it," Archer tried to reason. 

"I just want to see her…" Trip said suddenly. No matter how much Aneorm had hurt him, he needed to be with her. In his mind, he felt she didn't mean to do what she did; she only tried to bring them closer together. His eyes slowly blinked as he tried to get out what he wanted to say as quickly as possible. "Still so many questions… I… need… t' talk… please…" His eyes closed. "Don' hurt her… please… ah…" He drifted into a sleep and all that was heard was his breathing. What was to be done next? He was the captain and felt he knew how to protect his crew. But in this case, he had no control even over his own engineer… his own friend. Trip purposely disobeyed him without any real cause. Was Aneorm really all to blame or was Trip hiding something from him? It might have had something to with the cogenitor awhile back, but the only way to be certain was to truly speak with Trip without any distractions, anything in the way. And it would have to wait. The Drendarins would be gone soon, and there was little time left. 

"Lieutenant," Archer called. Reed quickly stepped up.

"Yes, Sir?" he replied. Archer stood to face the armory officer.

"I'll to speak with Aneorm now," he said blatantly and quickly walked out. Reed nodded his head apprehensively and followed him.

^*^*^

She saw the mess hall door open. Archer entered, with Reed right behind him. The captain's stance was rigid, ready to snap any moment. "Captain…" she tried to greet, but he wouldn't answer. He looked over his shoulder at the security officer.

"You may go," he ordered. The man loosened up and nodded at both the captain and the lieutenant. After he exited, Reed stood in his place as the captain sat himself in the chair across from Aneorm. He stared at her coldly. She merely stared back at him for a moment, expressionless. She felt sorry for what happened but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down. 

"You have no right to keep me here like this, Captain," she said. "Not even those on my planet have the sanctity." Archer took a deep yet subtle breath and glared at her.

"I don't trust you," he said frankly. "I don't trust you… or anyone like you on your planet. And I don't see there's any way I can."

"Stop the blubbery, Captain, it doesn't fit you," she said and stood up. Reed took a step closer.

"Sit down," Archer barked.

"I need a walk," she said with a smile. "You can't force me to stay."

"Watch me." 

Reed took a couple more cautious steps closer and she stood still, declining to take a seat.

"Please, Aneorm," Reed said to Archer's surprise. He turned and looked at the lieutenant. He shouldn't get into this, and he knew it. But he felt sorry for Aneorm, and somehow trusted her because Trip did so adamantly. 

"I'm not letting you go without answers," Archer avowed. "Until Kemparu and Jivan get here, I will use any force I wish."

"Well, that won't be long," she said and willingly sat back down in her chair. "Drendarin men don't waste time with their meals." Archer said nothing and glanced around the table. She stared into his untrusting eyes, vigilantly. "You haven't contacted them… or anyone, have you?"

"No," he admitted and leaned in closer. "And I won't until I get your cooperation."

"What do you really want from me, Captain?" she asked. "There's no point in you trying to learn what went on between me and the commander." Archer looked at her angrily. This routine would never end, and that's how she wanted it just so they could use up his time. "Isn't that what you want? And why you came here?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Well if you know what's good for you, you'll leave it alone."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't be able to grasp it as well as he has. He's a stronger man than you'll ever be," she said without hesitation. Archer paused at her reply.

"I don't care," he said and put his fists on the table. "Show me." She paused, eyes frozen on them clenching.

"No."

"Show me!" he growled and Reed twitched. Aneorm gazed into his enraged eyes as his hands spread out onto the table, palms up.

"Captain…" Reed was about to object.

"Shut up," he barked, keeping eyes bitterly locked with hers. She smiled dryly and settled her hands on the tabletop again.

"You're not really good at things like this, Captain," she stated softly. Archer lifted his chin at her with a stiff jaw. She leaned closer and slid her hands ant-crawls from his. "So, no."  

His eyes widened as hers stayed hooked on his. She slid away and started to walk to the exit door. Reed didn't know what to do. He didn't want to stop her against her will but merely moved to stand in her way. Before he could, she jolted back from Archer's grasp; the very second she looked away from him, he had stood and eagerly held onto her wrist. He wasn't being rough, but she made it harder by trying to pull away. She paused for a moment and he immediately felt a pinching sensation in his head.

"Captain, please," Reed called. He didn't know whether he was urging his captain to let her leave, or to simply let go. Archer didn't answer, trying to concentrate. Concentrate on something he couldn't find but tried to nonetheless. The pain pierced through his head and he winced. She was cold. And she knew what he was feeling.  

"Listen to him, Archer. Don't do anything foolish," she advised, suddenly keeping still. She gave him another warning and he grimaced from the sting.

"No. Show me," he muttered. 

"Sir!" Reed exclaimed. Archer didn't reply. He watched astonished as his captain nearly quivered from another sting. His eyes stared into her, fuzzy, yet eager. He was unrelenting and squeezed harder.

"Very well," she said finally and Archer let go. He looked around him, suddenly aware of his surroundings. 

"What the hell was that?" he asked, out of breath. "Is that what Trip wanted?"

"Sit down," she said calmly. 

"Captain…" Reed stepped closer. Archer held up a hand.

"Its okay, Malcolm," he told him and did what she said, unsettlingly feeling at her mercy. She sat in the adjacent seat and closed her eyes. Without reopening them, she took his hands into hers and held them in midair, palm-to-palm. Reed stood silent, helplessly witnessing the greatness of her deceivingly alien power once again. Archer winced another time and his teeth pressed hard against each other.  

_"They won't help me…"_

"What?" Archer said, confused. Aneorm's lips didn't move.

"Close your eyes," she said. He winced and obeyed. 

_He was in engineering, staring into the warp core. He had seen her walk in, heard her speak. He spoke to her, concerned, and dangled his legs over the platform. She looked so small, so innocent. _

_"They won't let me climb mountains… I want to stay here with you…"_

_He felt pain… and pity. _

"What are you doing?" Archer asked, breathless. He didn't want to experience any of this. 

_He led her down the corridor. She didn't really need his direction; she'd been there before. He closed the door behind them in his cramped quarters._

_"You'll be okay here. I don't want them to take you."_

_"They are already so furious with you. I am so sorry." He sat down next to her._

_"Don't be. You don't deserve to live the way you do. And I'm willin' to suffer the consequences. But I have a feelin' the Cap'n will understand." He smiles._

"Please, stop this," Archer pleaded. 

_"I can't thank you enough."_

"Quiet," Aneorm said, concentrating hard.

_"It's not necessary…"_

_He grabs her hand briefly but lets it go and stands up to reach for a book on the shelf. "This is a good one, too… Julius Caesar…"_

"Captain!" 

_Someone enters with the Vulcan and he stiffens. The sun doesn't hurt his eyes anymore. The man who just entered is a reflection of himself._

_"Where is she?" _

"Aneorm… stop!"

"Captain!" he heard someone yell in the distance. There was a grunt and a crash.

_"Where?" the man raises his voice.___

_"In my quarters…" he says to him. Why is the man so angry?_

His head hurts like hell. No on is there to help him. He's fighting her and she's saying nothing. 

_"How could you know what I would've done if _I_ don't even know what I would've done?"___

_"I didn't think it would hurt to teach her to read…" It brought pure joy to him when he saw how glad and excited she was about everything he had taught her and everything he had hoped to teach her. The reflection was still furious._

He had no control now. He couldn't even speak.

_She was sitting there at peace, listening to the piano, eyes closed. She wasn't afraid, she felt safe with him. But he was worried what would happen, what the angry man would decide. He would come soon. This might be one of his last moments with her, and he didn't want it to end just yet. His fingers nervously entwined, he tried to close his eyes and just _listen_ but the anxiety was too much. The door chimed.  _

_The door chimed._

_"Come in…" he heard the angry man say from inside his office. He entered._

"Stop!" Archer took all his might to try to get to Aneorm. "Damn it!"

_"What?" he choked._

_"Suicide, Trip…"_

Archer yelled across the room, hoping_ someone _would come to help.

_"It's all my fault…"_

_"You're damn right it is…" he growled to himself in the mirror. One face, two angles. _

_"We're in deep space… and a person is dead…"_

_He wants to cry. How could this be true? She's dead. _

_"…a child won't be born…" _

_He doesn't want it to be his fault. He only meant good. Why would this happen?_

Archer collapsed over the table. His hands lied flat on the cold surface. 

_"I don't know if I've gotten through to you…"_

_He wonders why Jon would do this to him. He is his friend, his best friend. They've been through so much. He thought he of all people would understand. There's a pain in his back, his head. She's dead and Jon is enraged. He wishes Jon would stop looking at him that way so he averts his eyes. But he's his captain, this is his duty. He tells himself he must understand. He wonders how she did it, did she go in pain? He tells himself maybe he was totally wrong to do what he did. He wants to say he's sorry but it wouldn't make a difference no matter how much it used to before._

_"You're not responsible…"_

Archer doesn't sense anyone around, including Aneorm_. _

_"Dismissed…" _

_Jon turns his back to him. Trip is sorry and hurt. Archer feels cold from his reflection. _

_"Cap'n?"_

_There is silence. _

Archer lost consciousness. He had a nightmare about blood and tears and the sun. Aneorm was in it, crying. Trip was screaming in pain and beat him, making him bleed. 

**To Be Continued…**


End file.
